8 am
by darshh
Summary: Every Saturday, Butters shows up at Kenny's house at 8:00 sharp.


Every Saturday morning since he saw the cigarette burns on my arms, Butters started showing up at my door at 8:00 sharp. Every morning he was wearing the same sky blue jacket, pale yellow scarf and white earmuffs, and the same friendly, yet slightly concerned smile.

"Let's go for a walk!" he would chirp, his cheerful tone bringing me out of my bleary stupor better than any of the birds singing outside my window ever could.

I never took him up on the offer. At first it was because I was angry at him for coming over, for thinking I needed or wanted his help. But even after my anger wore off I kept making excuses. Sometimes I legitimately had other things to do, but most of the time I would close the door, go to my room and roll a blunt as I watched him walk away through my window.

Last night- Friday night- I didn't sleep at all. I spent the whole night in a sort of depressed daze, fading in and out of cough syrup-induced hallucinations. I think I cried a lot, because my eyes were red as the devil's dick when I went to the bathroom to throw up.

I was laying on the floor of my bedroom in my underwear when Butters showed up. I almost didn't answer the door; I didn't think I had the energy. He rang the doorbell once more. At that point I realized he wasn't going to leave until he had his weekly rejection, so I dragged myself up and stumbled out to answer.

He didn't seem fazed by my lack of clothing. He wasn't an easily shocked kid, which I guess I kinda liked about him. He hardly ever flipped out. Stressful or unexpected situations were handled with an aura of calm and patience. And that's fuckin' admirable as hell, considering what people go through on a daily basis in this town.

"Hi Kenny," he started off. A tiny shiver ran through him; it was an especially chilly morning. "Wanna go for a walk today?"

I leaned in the doorway and looked him over. I didn't understand why he was trying so hard to spend time with me… The only reason I could think of for someone to do that was that they were trying to get on my good side and maybe get a discount on some bud. Something told me this wasn't the Stotch kid's angle, though.

I tried to think of an excuse for today, but I was drawing a blank. Honestly, I didn't want to be at home all day again. Dad had been in a nasty mood the last few days, and that's something I would've liked to avoid.

Butters waited patiently the whole time I was thinking and debating with myself. Honestly, that kid did not get enough credit for being such a saint. Anyone else would have gotten cold and said "screw it," turning around and marching back home because that asshole Kenny wasn't gonna take them up on their friendly offer anyway.

"Yeah," I answered after another moment. "Sure, why not? Just let me get some clothes on.

I threw on some pants and my thick orange sweatshirt, wrapped a moth-eaten red scarf around my neck, and we left. Butters looked absolutely thrilled as he bounced along beside me. He said he didn't have any particular route in mind, so we just wandered around the town, mostly sticking to the back roads.

For the first little while, we didn't talk much. But then he slipped his hand into mine and gave it a little squeeze and looked up at me with his big blue eyes… and started asking me about myself. My family. My hopes and dreams and goals.

It was eerie. I'd never been asked these kinds of questions, not by my friends or by the numerous school counselors and social workers I'd been forced to deal with over the years. At first I was tempted to lie, or just tell him to back off. But the way he was holding my hand, and the unabashed, innocent curiosity dancing in his eyes, I couldn't help it. I told him everything.

After I almost started crying over the death of the dog I'd had as a kid, he stopped me with a gentle touch on the arm. We were on the outskirts of town now, and it was almost 5 pm. Butters smiled warmly and dusted the snow off the top of low iron fence that ran along the edge of a farmhouse's property.

"Do you feel a little better now, after gettin' all that out?" he asked as he hopped up on the bar. His nose and cheeks were tinged pink from the cold, and I couldn't help but think he looked really adorable.

My instinctive answer was no. No, you didn't crack me. No, I don't need your help to feel good about my life. But he did, and he'd certainly helped lift my near-suicidal mood from the previous night. I'd almost _cried_ in front of him, for Christ's sake.

I nodded, offering a small smile. "Yeah, I do… Thanks a lot, dude…"

"Any time, Kenny. I'm here for you."

I leaned in to kiss him then. I'd predicted that a smooch would fluster him at least a little bit. But to my surprise, he accepted and returned the kiss without hesitation, like he had been expecting it. It was like we'd done this a thousand times before.

He giggled when I pulled away. I found that I had a big stupid grin plastered to my face as well.

After that, I was always waiting for him outside my door on Saturday mornings.

* * *

**AN:** This ( post/9728451211) is what I was thinking about while writing this. One of my favorite fan arts by one of my favorite artists in the fandom c:


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